November, 20062 5 7 8 19 22 24 25 28 30
Happily and to everyone's relief, Christine's illness, about which in a recent dream I did "not know what to do," was found in the last few days to be still under control with no worsening noted in her latest medical evaluation.
I discussed my dream about being assigned a large scholarly work by Hebe, and these were the insights or new information obtained:
11/5/06 - Title: "Death and Saxes"
Murder. High sax. [These words are about all that was remembered of two dreams early this morning: one in which a "murder" occurred, and it seems it was mine, and the other in which someone had been playing an instrument that I identified as a "high sax." I think I was disturbed by the murder and briefly awoke. I think my musician wife was playing the "high sax," and I woke up with a "hard on" and couldn't help noting that "high sax" could suggest a lot of sex or a high sex drive. The correct name of the actual instrument is a soprano saxophone. Fran does seem to enjoy giving oral sex. Certainly I appreciate these "performances," though seldom if ever do we go to climax with a "blowjob," fellatio being instead part but not the end of a sequence of our sexual activities while making love. I'm not sure either of us still has a strong or high sex drive, though in years long past we seemed to like "doing it" plenty often, at least for the first 2-3 years together. Nonetheless, sex is by now not dead from our lives, just infrequent.]
11/7/06 - Title: "Everyone Enjoys a Little Flattery - But What is 'the Bourne Identity?' "
"Well, I'd like to know how I was 'possibly subbourning [per the dictionary, correct spelling is "suborning," meaning to induce by bribery someone to commit perjury, etc. - which does not seem to fit here...] police business' when I was myself cooperating and working with the cops" I was saying [in a Polish - unpolished? - accent, as if I were an immigrant from eastern Europe, to a pretty young thing, who seemed to be a policewoman or a lawyer, she trying to explain the authorities' point of view, about some incident about which I'd been, today, in a little cafe dinner party, complaining, from many years back when I'd been calling to report something, and the police, instead of taking my information promptly and courteously, had gotten all arrogant and stick-togetherish and us-against-them-like and suspicious, with more than one person on the line interrogating me, it seemed, while maybe trying to get a fix on my position and sending someone in a squad car to arrest me. I think the get-together was in the evening at a social club or restaurant, and the pretty young thing was perhaps a daughter-in-law to be, and I'd been trying a little boorishly to impress her with interesting tales from my long ago past. And, she, maybe there with my son, was trying to impress me as her potential, prospective father-in-law, by telling of the incident as she had understood it, from the police perspective. My attitude was really one of appreciation and respect for this professional woman who was giving me such attention (brown nosing, or sucking up?) and who might be joining our extended family, but I was pretending to be offended by her using phrases like "subbourning police business," even if incorrectly, when really I was enjoying our interaction.]
11/8/06 - Title: "Surprising Effects of an Ordinary Deluge"
I'm alone at a large, modern millionaire mansion, standing at the front outside. It is beautifully and interestingly landscaped. There is a gray sky and lots of rain. Excess water drains down a wide natural stone curved walkway near the house. The water's strong flow and certain unknown phenomena, that it seems to catalyze below the surface, are undermining the stability and integrity of the landscaping, so in places the earth is boiling up as if by the action on it of multiple small springs. Many of the large aesthetic landscaping stones and house siding rocks are behaving as though they have lost much of their weight and are now being violently shifted, torn off the lower part of the house, or even spun in topsy-turvy fashion in the clear current as easily as if they were bathtub toys, instead of big irregularly shaped naturally bright colored decorative rocks weighing at least 50, and in some cases 100s, of pounds each.
Title: "The Inn of Sixth Madness"
I'm at a run-down inn. [I've been here in dreams before, but this is the worst time.] I get a plate of food, but go to the bathroom before eating. On my return, the food is gone. I ask the careless, informal waiters about it and am sent from one to another, none giving me a fresh plateful or admitting having disposed of it. Seeking some resolution, I go to various inner rooms at the place, all cramped and informal, full of stuff in disarray. In the confusion of spaces and doorways, I spend awhile wandering fruitlessly where I'd as soon not be. In one of the more public areas, I see someone disgusting. I cannot tell if he's a street person, a resident at the inn, or a dinner customer. I avoid him, but am shocked to see he's nude from the waste (waist) down, casual about just sitting in his own bluish gray feces spread over his upper thigh and anal areas.
11/19/06 - Title: "Surveying My New Domain"
It's a gorgeous, sunny day. It's early morning. I've been buying lots or a new house and lots, first looking at various locations. Then I've already bought at least two. At the second, I am walking along one border line and very pleased to see that my new neighbor, not yet met, has already put in a temporary border. It is perfect, made of new, gray landscaping bricks and slabs of molded concrete [such as one can easily buy, to put in gardens or walkways, at Home Depot or Lowes]. Unusually, they have been laid out not vertically, [which would be most efficient and practical], but horizontally [which requires more pieces/bricks/slabs] set out on the St. Augustine grass across the surveyed dividing line between our two properties. It is done in such a way that the property line exactly bisects the middle of the bricks or slabs. As I approach the end of the line/row of divider blocks, I see that a set of slaps (slabs) has been set down, two on each side of the corner of our properties, with a small circular space left at the middle showing the division point or surveying stake. I note that, in order to create this balanced aesthetic effect, my neighbor has had to briefly step across our property line onto my side. However, this adds to my pleasure that he [or she, but it seems more likely a he] has been willing to do so in order to create the well-balanced set of 4 landscape pieces there. There are a few young trees, either newly planted or that were left by the developers as part of the landscaping. The lots are relatively large, quite deep (long). The St. Augustine grass is healthy, recently mowed and about two inches high. [There are no bare earth patches or dead and dying grass areas, as in our actual drought-stricken yard.]
11/22/06 - Title: "Nothing Special Seen on Reflection"
I was looking at a large circular reflecting pool in someone's backyard, but at an angle above it so that I saw nothing reflected in it. It was blue, later white, like a crater lake. Then I was looking at a circular mirror set inside a large handle, but it was lying flat on a chest of drawers or bureau so I did not see anything in it but white, just reflecting a white ceiling above. Then it was a square mirror, again with nothing particular noticed in it.
11/24/06 - Title: "Needed Auto Maintenance"
My car was having some engine problems, so I had taken it for a tune-up, thinking it was probably a minor, routine thing. A team of two men and a woman [evidently professional mechanics] went over it carefully and then told me the carburetor and fuel system were dirty and needed to be cleaned. I told them I'd had something similar done about a year earlier by one of their competitors. "And how did that work out for you," the woman asked. "Well," I said, "I had problems soon afterward, but they were not anything major, so I had just put up with them till now." The current team assured me, if I had the carburetor flush and fuel system overhaul, this time it would restore the car to normal, so I agreed to have them do it. They said my car should be ready in a day or two. [The car I was driving was my last one, a 1990 Toyota Tercel, which I'd had for 14 years and had cost me just $3300, but which had needed a big overhaul of its carburetor/fuel system and some environmental systems, very expensive, about $1800 altogether, after which, however, the car had run well for a long time. I've just had my own annual physical (check-up) and am apparently in fairly good health.]
11/25/06 - Title: "A Snake Beneath Her Poncho"
My sister-in-law, Mary, is sitting wrapped in or wearing a large, thick, colorful Mexican blanket-like garment. Somehow I become aware that there is a coral snake, that looks also like a green tree snake, hidden beneath it, slithering about among the inner folds covering her body. As yet she does not know this and is placid, content, enjoying relaxing in the comfortable blanket-like clothing. The snake finds a frayed hole in the garment, low to Mary's front, and it begins sliding or slithering through it, thus becoming visible to Mary. She is hysterical and screams, afraid the snake will bite her before she has a chance to get out from under the garment and away. I know there is little chance of any damage from a coral snake and that it in fact is in the greater danger from Mary's frantic reactionary movements. Since Mary's acting as if in mortal danger, though, I figure I'd better try to catch the snake. But I'm aware that if I simply reach for it, the snake then would be dangerous, able to bite a fingertip or the web of flesh between my fingers. I turn to look for some gloves, a jar, or hot pads I can get and use quickly, but Mary's panic reaction continues to be worsening the situation. Due to her hysterical movements, the snake has gone back through the hole, apparently to hide once more in the inner garment folds.
[I visited with Mary at Mom's place over the past 2-3 days, for Thanksgiving celebrations. Although the idea of the real Mary being engaged in coitus seems far-fetched, even if she must have once or there would be no Jim, a possible interpretation of this dream involves a phallus going out and in a "frayed hole," or vagina surounded by pubic hair, while she is writhing "hysterically" in the throes of passion. How this scene expresses my own psyche, however, remains a mystery.
It is at least as possible the dream relates to my view that Mary has taken on a rather male orientation to life, her mother earth image, as she sits placidly in a colorful poncho, belied by the presence of a phallus-like extension that comes out of her "frayed hole" pubic area. However, she refuses to own or acknowledge her masculinity and so screams, reacts hysterically, and tries to escape it.
Again, I am puzzled by the dream's message about my inner landscape, except to note some ambiguity in gender identity issues reflected in my activity preferences: I like reading, for example, more than competitive sports, yet also prefer war movies or westerns to "chick flicks," enjoying photographing ships over flowers, etc. On occasion, it seems the arguments Frances and I have derive in large part from our both feeling most comfortable with the "alpha male" role, rather than her being more traditionally feminine or submissive. Then, as I do not win all such fights, it feels at times as though I am having to submit to her, being forced, relative to her position, to assume the more traditionally female role, a completely untenable circumstance from my perspective. Such impasses lead as close as any to our getting divorced. They underscore the common wisdom that oldest children - Frances and I both being firstborns - do not easily get along, each feeling most comfortable as "the boss."
Mary was another firstborn.]
11/28/06 - Title: "Friends and Lovers"
There's a large comfortable bed (in a large room), good for snuggling. Fran and I are nude in it and much younger. It is cold in the house. We are anticipating sex, though making love is not certain. The house is not very big and not very private. A man I know well is in bed in a back room. Another man I know is in another room. There are no doors at all. For privacy, Fran and I would just need to be quiet, but really there are no secrets either. But others seem to assume Fran and I will be intimate, as though we are married, and they are just friends living here too.
Title: "Odds Are You or I Shall Be Dead Before Morning"
[In another dream its also nighttime and] I'm on the front line in a conventional warfare battle. It is a World War II setting. There is a lot of death and destruction. I am giving a bunch of green soldiers a pep talk, but also am being straight with them about our odds. The next attack could come at any moment, I tell them, and when it does, the odds are at least 50% of us will be mortally wounded or simply killed at once. We are all terribly frightened. "Don't worry about if you'll be a coward or not," I say. "Everyone is afraid, but what will happen will just happen. And then tomorrow you'll either be among the living or you won't. But we're all in this together, doing our best. Nobody's running away. It's even worse outside the foxholes."
11/30/06 - Title: "Psychological Insights are Fine, But Don't Give Up Your Day Job"
I'm a student, taking an intensive, graduate level program of study in psychology. I'm not sure I can manage it, but seem to be holding my own initially.
[In a later dream the same night] I'm a student considering a career in psychology, but advisors are insisting this is not right for me, that I should choose a different field.
[It is pretty clear the intense program of study is the process, in or out of the dream group, of understanding dreams, using them as guides to positive changes, and becoming more at home with "being." While I can learn much this way and seek an ongoing healthy transformation, the dreams may suggest not trying to make this sort of thing something I "do," outside of dream group, even if I have gotten gratifying feedback there on my responses to others' dreams.]